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AN: Hey internet-peoples! Thanks for reading and reviewing my humbly creative disaster.

Chapter 22: Of Mysteries and Mudbloods

"And finally, the Empress." Harry, from under his heavy black cloak, looked at the wide-eyed, blonde-haired Hufflepuff girl in front of him, staring at the arrangement of cards between them with undisguised, giddy hope. "In light of these five cards, I would say you have a good chance with Cedric Diggory – it may not be true love, but you'll enjoy each other's company…you just have to have the courage to ask. He'll respect you for that."

The girl practically squealed with delight. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" She pulled a couple of Galleons out of her pocket, setting them down and rising to her feet. "I can't wait to ask Cedric out!" She dashed out of the closet, her excited footsteps pattering down the corridor.

Harry sighed deeply, cancelling the voice-altering charm and removing the hood from his head. Leaning back against the wall, he watched the fire in his bowl of crushed bay laurel leaves dipped in blood wane and slowly die – that was the third tarot card reading he had done that night, and even with his meagre sacrifice, he was feeling exhausted. He glanced down at his watch – it was one o'clock AM, Saturday morning. When Fred and George arranged appointments, it was always during the middle of the night, and always in a different closet or storeroom on one of the upper floor corridors; though it had only been a couple of weeks, news had already spread of a mysterious Seer roaming the corridors at night…though Harry didn't actually do any roaming at all - he just sneaked off to appointments under his invisibility cloak.

Harry started, blinking blearily – apparently, he would be sleeping on the floor; he had no energy to make it back to Ravenclaw Tower. It had been a full day – he had had two morning classes, and had skipped lunch in favour of looking through the library for research.

The weight of Professor Snape's 'insult' had not been lost on Harry – clearly, the snarky potions professor was also of the opinion that Gilderoy Lockhart had a few more secrets than was healthy. So Harry had taken to researching truth serums. Not just the traditional veritaserum – but compounds, derivatives, and variations with additives which included essence of lavender (to be used as a relaxant), hemlock (to poison the serum), essence of hellebore (to strengthen the potion…enough would leave the victim in a permanent catatonic state), and morning glory seeds (to spice up the truth with related, fear induced hallucinations). Veritaserum was truly a versatile potion – but it was complex, and very difficult to brew…hence all the research.

In the meantime, Harry was working on a scheme to go along with the potion – once he managed to make the potion (the hallucinogenic variation, he was thinking), the trick was to administrate it at a time that would inflict maximum damage, and, at the very least, result in the sacking of the idiot (who, Harry thought, was certainly giving blondes a bad name).

Harry smiled sleepily as he recalled his preliminary plans. Sure, dosing the man with an amateur-brewed hallucinogenic truth serum was a little on the cruel side – but the beautiful thing was that the potion would only affect him as much as his dishonesty; if Gilderoy Lockhart happened to be an honest idiot, then he had nothing to worry about. However, if he was the conniving villain Harry thought him to be...the results would be fascinating. Harry could not help but wonder how much damage the potion would cause - oh well. God would forgive him. Probably.

Harry woke to the bright morning light shining through the cracks of the closet door, right into his weary eyes. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he blinked his eyes open, shielding them as he re-familiarized himself with the unwelcome sensation of being awake. Once his mind had sluggishly arrived to an alert and wakeful state along with his body, he proceeded to cast a scourgify and then a shrinking charm on the charred silver bowl, and also to shrink the black cloak he had been wearing, stuffing both in his pocket before vacating the broom cupboard.

It being a Saturday morning, he wasn't quite sure what to do – which meant he knew exactly where to go: the library. When in doubt, go to the library – the maxim had never failed him, not once. And so he made his way down to the Hogwarts library.

Once there, he wandered about for a while, enjoying the quiet – the library was empty, save for Madame Pince and a few upper year students. Most of the students were enjoying the last visages of summer outdoors. Eventually, Harry settled down with a book that had caught his eye; a book detailing the inner workings of the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. And he was very fascinated with what he learned after skimming through only a few chapters.

Formed in 1616, the Ministry of Magic had seven main departments: The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the Department of Magical Games and Sports, the Departments of Magical Transportation, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Department of Mysteries. It was when Harry found the chapter on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that he began to take notes. The further divisions within the department were the Auror Office, the Department of Intoxicating Substances, the Improper Use of Magic Office, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, and the Wizengamot Administration Services. Apparently, if he were to take legal actions concerning Sirius Blacks imprisonment and the Black accounts, he would need to do so though Wizengamot – a high court of law governed by politicians. Whose brilliant idea was that?

It appeared that besides seats still held by the selected representatives of old wizarding families, there was a selection of members who were elected by the general public, and then a larger selection chosen by the Minister for Magic – all members had to be approved by the Chief Warlock (who happened to be Albus Dumbledore – that fact presented a whole new set of questions) or the Minister for Magic; only with sufficient proof of unreliability, a member of Wizengamot could be removed. It was rather disconcerting. Witches and Wizards were ultimately prosecuted, imprisoned and executed by a group of politicians? What about a jury? An actual judge? Harry made a mental note to avoid getting tried by Wizengamot for anything at all costs.

The Aurors, on the other hand, were actual trained law enforcement officers – which made Harry wonder if perhaps presenting a case to them would be a viable option. It was unlikely given the jurisdiction of the department, but still…

When he got tired of pondering over things that made him depressed and anxious, Harry turned to what sounded like, by title alone, the most interesting chapter in the book: the one on the Department of Mysteries. It was a department that carried out confidential research and development projects, completely separate from Wizengamot and the Minister for Magic – Harry liked the sound of the place already. Known divisions included the Time Room, the Space Chamber, the Love Chamber, the Hall of Prophecy, the Death Chamber, and the Brain Room. By the time he had read all this, he was fairly sure that the Department of Mysteries was, in fact, the most brilliant part of the Ministry of Magic, and was where all the smart people went to work. Apparently, the department was manned by Unspeakables, researchers whose identities were concealed; they even had the coolest titles of anyone who worked in the Ministry. Perhaps the profession of Unspeakable made a valid, legal career option; Harry could not help but consider this fact as he flipped through the pages, pouting absentmindedly about the lack of definitive information about the department.

Harry's musings, however, were suddenly disturbed by a sniffling sound coming from behind him. Frowning, he span about, surprised to find a glassy-eyed Hermione shifting awkwardly behind him, acting as though she was reluctant to approach him.

"Hermione?" he asked confusedly, cringing slightly at the 'I'm only just holding back the tears' look on her face.

"H-Harry," she began shakily.

Awkwardly rising to his feet and pulling her down into a chair beside his, he immediately inquired, "What happened?"

The girl sniffled slightly. "Nothing, r-really, just wanted to come inside, to the library…it's chilly out."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really, Hermione? You shouldn't even try lying to me. You're a terrible liar, by the way. Downright atrocious."

She choked out a laugh, but then sobered, and bit her lip.

"If you came here, you obviously thought I could help somehow – so spit it out."

She sighed. "There was an…argument, outside by the quidditch pitch."

Harry nodded slowly. "And what happened?"

"It…it was Malfoy. I – I know I sh-shouldn't take anything he says to heart…it's just…just..."

Harry's eyes hardened, entirely forgetting his disconcertment at the prospect of a nearly crying Hermione. "What did he say to you?"

"There…there was an argument between the Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch teams – Malfoy's father bought them all new brooms, and they were gloating over it. I – I stood up for the Gryffindors…I said that no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way on…"

Harry smirked, amused by her characteristic bluntness.

Hermione bit her lip. "But Malfoy, he…was really angry, and he called me a mudblood – and he said these awful things about my parents! I don't even want to repeat them…And I know…I know I shouldn't let him get to me, but…" She choked out a sob.

Harry paused, turbulently conflicted between outrage, disappointment, nervousness and fury. Finally, he let out a ragged sigh. "You're right, you shouldn't let it get to you...but you've a right to be upset about it too." Awkwardly, he took her hand in his. "Just remember, Hermione, that he hasn't met your parents, he doesn't know you – but I have, and I do. And I know your parents are wonderful people, best muggles I've ever met, and I know that you're one of the most brilliant witches I'll ever meet." His face twitched into a smile. "You've got everything going for you, Hermione – it's only the idiots that can't see that."

Sniffing, she wiped her eyes and smiled at him. "Thanks, Harry. I'm sorry...for bothering you."

Harry paid no mind to the last phrase. "No problem. And don't you worry about a thing – I'll take care of Malfoy."

"Harry," she said sharply, voice instantly growing sturdier, "You really can't start to go around cursing people for me. It's just like you said, he's only being an idiot."

"But sometimes idiots deserve to suffer for their idiocy."

She sent him a pleading look.

"Fine, fine. No cursing. Got it. Don't expect me to be nice to him, though."

"No, Harry – I don't want your other…friendships to suffer because of me. It's not right for you to be caught between Malfoy and I."

Harry grimaced. "It's not as though he just insulted you, Hermione – it was more than that, from what you've said."

"But I egged him on – it doesn't make it right, but please…I don't want you feel responsible for my feelings. Because you aren't."

"Fair enough." He plastered a smile on his face. "So, how about some Saturday afternoon research?"

"It makes sense now!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "Gebo and jera are used to absorb a miniscule amount of the person's magical signature – it's sent through a series of raido runes, and then on to the arithmantic matrix!"

Harry looked up from the book on permanent charms that he was taking notes from. "Exactly. My theory is, is if we can find a way to integrate the power transferred through the rune sequences with an electrical circuit, then we wouldn't have to alter the muggle electronics very much at all – the trick would be combining rune sequences and a complex arithmantic algorithm, contained in various intersecting matrices, to act as a filter, to collect the same ambient magic that prevents electronic devices from working normally, and convert it to electrical energy."

Hermione nodded rapidly, curls bouncing eagerly. "Once we can figure out a way to control the input and output of the filter, and develop a conversion factor, we could use it on anything! Televisions, computers, telephones…"

Harry chuckled. "Let's figure out how the runic base works, first."

Hermione deflated slightly. "And we also have to figure out how to make the conversion, instead of just mimicking it…especially since there hasn't been any real research done on it…we're in the dark here."

"And you know what that means," Harry grinned.

Hermione shifted nervously. "What?"

"Experiments!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Carefully controlled and calculated experiments."

Harry waved her off dismissively. "Sure, sure …" He smirked, and ripped out a new page in his notebook, jotting down a few ideas, along with a reminder to order some materials for the experiments.

Meanwhile, Hermione peered over his arms at his notes, frowning and snatching away one of his notes. "What's this?"

Harry looked up, noticing one of his more gruesome doodles in Hermione's hand – it depicted the dead, mauled form (head crudely detached, a leg shredded, arms broken in bizarre positions, all lying in a pool of blood) of a fat, ugly man being torn apart by a skinny, dark haired woman, seeming to crawl out of a painting. It was his rendition of a possible meeting between Vernon and Walburga. "Just a…thing…"

"A thing," Hermione deadpanned.

"Yeah, you know, a doodle."

"What on earth possessed you to draw a doodle like that? It's positively dreadful!"

"Er…I…" Harry flipped through his list of excuses. "It…it's something I Saw, in a dream, a vision."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut, starting on something else. "Speaking of that, what's this I hear of a Seer roaming the upper corridors?"

"Oh, that's, um, practice."

"Practice?" she asked dubiously.

"Yeah – you know, to expand my horizons, discover the innermost parts of my inner eye, gain insight into the inner workings of the Hogwarts student psyche…and make some profit while I'm at it."

"Harry," she replied sharply, "You know –"

Suddenly, their conversation was disturbed by the sound of a throat clearing behind them, causing them to spin around.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "W-What are you doing here?"

The boy shifted slightly, a slight blush painting his freckled cheeks – causing Harry to raise an eyebrow. "I, um, I just wanted you to know, thanks for what you said, defending the Gryffindor team…we didn't let Malfoy get away with what he said to you earlier."

Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to scold him, before Harry kicked her leg slightly and nodded to Ron, gesturing for him to continue.

The red haired boy removed his hands from behind his back, pulling out two small pieces of paper from behind his back. "I cursed him real good; and, well, Colin was there, so we got pictures."

At Harry's overtly gestured urgings, Hermione reluctantly took the pictures from him, Harry looking over her shoulder and laughing when he saw the image of his blonde haired cousin vomiting slugs.

"Good work, Weasley, couldn't have done it better myself!" Harry said, standing up and clapping the boy on his back.

"Uh, thanks," he replied abashedly, offering a lopsided smile as he looked at Hermione. "Everyone was furious, Hermione – Malfoy won't bother you again."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Thanks, Ron."

"Well, you are a Gryffindor, after all – and we have to watch each other's backs. You watched our backs at exam time...by the way, I never got a chance to tell you, but the potions exam you helped me study for – I didn't fail that."

"Oh, well, good job! I suppose you're finding it a lot easier, then?"

"Er…"

She looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Well, not easier really…actually, I… was, uh, gonna ask if maybe you could help me with my potions assignment? You know, if you're not too busy…" He glanced over at Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and looked over at Harry, who shook his head. "Nah, we were just about finished for now. I've got to take care of some other things, anyway. I'll see you around, Hermione, Weasley."

"Harry!" Hermione called as he began to walk away, causing him to look over his shoulder.

"Malfoy's learnt his lesson, there's no reason for you to go after him now, right? I mean, he's your cousin, so…"

Harry sighed. "Don't worry about it, Hermione. I won't do anything."

She smiled brightly at him.

Smiling back, he swept around and out of the library, taking note of the still-warm glow of the afternoon sun as he continued down the stairs at a brisk pace; before he stopped suddenly, feeling an intense pair of eyes on his back. Swirling about, he glanced toward the source.

"Luna?"

The blonde haired girl smiled slightly, before the expression disappeared. "You shouldn't do that."

Harry frowned. "Do what?"

"Lie to her. If you keep doing that, gribberdoofs will eat your relationship."

Harry blanched. "I…I didn't lie."

Her blue-grey eyes were wide, sincere, and unrelenting. "Yes you did. I think she would be very cross with you if she knew."

"Well…that's why I didn't tell her."

"But then the gribberdoofs…"

Harry sighed, looking up at her, distraught. "I know…it's just…there are some things I can't just leave be, Luna – I'm very angry at my cousin, right now; and if he doesn't let go of his outdated prejudices soon, trouble will find him all on its own, with or without my help. I might as well vent my frustration and teach him a lesson at the same time."

She tilted her head to the side. "So that makes it alright to lie to your other friend?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"I didn't lie," Harry defended himself, "I just didn't tell the whole truth. I won't do anything to Draco…not yet, anyway. They do say that revenge is a dish best served cold. All I'm going to do, right now, is ignore him."

Luna frowned, looking very confused. "But is lying the words you say or the intentions you have?"

Harry's face scrunched up confusedly. "Huh?"

"Well, if you intended to hide things from Hermione, would it be a lie even if all your words were true?"

Harry blinked, unnerved and curious all the same. "Um…I don't know."

Luna blinked, staring off into space. "Oh. Neither do I."

Slightly disconcerted, Harry simply nodded slowly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Well, I'll be seeing you around, Luna. Don't fall down the stairs."

She smiled serenely at him. "I was considering it, but the plitplutters told me it would hurt too much."

Harry nodded. "They were probably right."

She nodded. "They always are. Goodbye, Harry." And with that, she skipped off, humming an incoherent tune.

Sighing and shaking the odd encounter out of his head, Harry continued down the corridor he had found himself on, heading towards Ravenclaw Tower. Near the outer wall of the castle, the corridor was rather dank, and being on the east side, it was gloomily dusky as of the late afternoon. The hall was quiet, save for Harry's light footfalls and a faint, echoing dripping sound emanating from an indiscernible location – and Harry could not help but muse that the students were still probably all outdoors, enjoying the last visages of warm weather and sun. He was utterly alone, and that was why he was so shocked when he heard a voice –

:Rip…tear…kill…:

He froze, immediately paling at the eerie, whispering voice, a familiar, slippery tone, seeming to creep into the corridor from the walls.

:Blood…kill…kill…:

Steeling himself, he tried to call out, :Hello? Who's there?:

He slapped a hand over his mouth when he realized that he was speaking in Parseltongue. Which meant...the mysterious voice belonged to either another Parselmouth, or a snake...also implying that his elusive companion either was a psychotic, murderous human who was probably related to him, or a vicious snake looking for something to kill. Harry didn't like either of the possibilities.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced behind him, from whither the voice had seemed to come from, and then to either side, before darting forward, not daring to look back as he made it to Ravenclaw Tower in record time.

Blech...sort of a boring chapter - it's entire purpose is to set up the next chapter...